Page:Poetry of the Magyars.djvu/113

"Remember, Herczeg! what thou dost—
To leave the land prepare;
Which thou hast sold to Magyars bold—
The Magyars hasten here."

The heralds sought the Polish Count,
And bent them low and meek;
Yet free from fright, they spoke outright,
As Arpād bade them speak.

"For snow-white steed thou gav'st the land;
For golden bit, the grass;
For the rich saddle, Duna's stream—
Now bring the deed to pass."

The Herczeg laugh'd at first, nor cared
For what the heralds brought;
But soon his rage o'ercame his mirth,
And thus he spoke his thought:

"'Twere better to have slain the steed,
Than sport such dangerous wit;
The saddle hide 'neath Duna's stream—
Beneath the grass, the bit."

The heralds to the Herczeg said,
"Your Highness need not storm;
The bargain made with Magyar men,
Your Highness must perform.